Initiative
by Circius
Summary: Deidara and Itachi's relationship is really, really f'cked up. But in the vicious world of business in Tokyo, whose isn't? Art and numbers don't mix...Usually. But then again, Itachi has always been anything but "usual". ItaDeiIta and some NaruSasuNaru.AU


**Soooo...the Circius is BACK!!! And she will be replying to everyone's who ahs e-mailed or sent their love to her (happydancehappydance) ASAP. Now that Chirstmas break is coming, I think I'm gonna be posting like...a bajillion ItaDei. 'Cause I'm sick and twisted like that. XDD**

**Warnings!** AU-takes place in Tokyo Japan, however, I never use Japanese honorables in my work, since I ALWAYS screw up on them...and becasue I do them no justice. I apologize. On the bright side: NO SPOILERS! Yay! However, in this AU fic, Itachi did not kill all of his family...though they are al dead save for Sasu--I mean--we'll get to that later. o

**Rated:** M for shmex. Yay shmex. I promise I won't hold out on you anymore if you REVIEW! ^^ Also because of many curse words and dirty, dirty minds. SHAME! XDD

**Oh, and review. I need them like I need chocolate when it is my werewolf time of month. XDD Plus, the more you review, the faster I update...and you want that because...This one is actually going to have...CHAPTERS!!! (gasp and shock interted here). WAH! O.O**

**Have fun! ^^**

**And so, without further adieu', I would now like to present:**

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**Initiative**

_A ItaDeiIta Ficcidee_

By: Circius

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Chapter One:

_Sunday Recollections_

--

_With the way it is now  
I'll just become a part of your memory, right?  
My emotions shone like the depths of tears…_  
-Love and Truth, by Yui

--

There was a haunted look in Itachi's eyes the next morning. Deidara was curious as to why, because, well, they had obviously just had a night of great fucking--it didn't make sense.

The dark gaze didn't seem to be staring anywhere in particularly, so the blonde instead chose to ignore him. He was busy trying to focus on finding and putting on his clothes.

Pants. Mesh, Tank. Socks. Boots…where the fuck were his boots?

His torso turned about a quarter of the way to ask his…partner could probably be the best term for it; said partner who was still laying in the bed, gaze locked on the ceiling. As his lips parted to ask the question, Itachi had already given him the answer.

"Behind the door."

And sure enough, there they were. Mind-reading bastard. Dei picked them up and then sat his ass back down on the bed, wincing a little from last night's…activities, but otherwise ignoring the pain as he pulled on the first combat boot over his left foot, and started lacing it up.

"Eh…Itachi. You getting up anytime soon, un?"

He asked as he moved to the other boot, tugging it up his small calves with his usual grace, pointing his toe afterwards like a ballerina. He began lacing again.

Left. Right. Hook.

Left. Right. Hook.

It was almost a mechanical thing now, he was so used to it. Their schedule. Their non-spoken agreement. Itachi would call him at some Gods-forsaken hour, whether he was eating, dancing, or working on a new creation; and the ass would presumptuously tell him exactly when and where they were going to meet. Usually it ended up at the Uchiha's apartment, like today. Deidara often thought of saying "No" multiple times, because he hated the feeling he got whenever he was around the older man; the feeling of being nothing more then a material object, a toy for the raven's own means. He was actually pretty sure that the Uchiha only fucked guys in the first place was to ensure that no one got pregnant-he was so thorough, so calm, so calculating in his stares.

But every time the blonde would think he had gotten up the will, and told himself, told himself-

'The next time the bastard calls, I'm going to tell him. I'm going to tell him…'

He would think he was ready, and convince himself that Itachi was nothing more then another one of those snobbish, cheap-ass rich bastards that were a dime a dozen in this city, and when his cell rang, even when he was in the middle of teaching his college art class at work (something he had told Itachi explicitly not to do, but in the early days of their relationship, couldn't _not_ pick up the phone anyway, because of the way his heart would beat out of his chest), he would simply excuse himself from whatever he was doing, much to the amusement his snickering students. They all knew their favorite art professor was gay and in fact had a boyfriend who had, at least, what many of his female students called, the "hottest ass in Tokyo".

Never the less, he would move outside his classroom as his students occupied themselves with some nonsense, making sure to close the think metal door until he heard the solitary 'click' behind him before he picked up his cell.

He was going to do it this time, he would tell himself, trying to make his voice sound cold as he spoke the first word of greeting.

"Hello Uchiha, un. What is it?"

He didn't even know why he bothered to ask the question, because he had learned that nothing ever differentiated from Itachi's well-organized, perfectly planned and patterned life. The question "what is it" was idiocy, because he knew as well as anyone that all _it_ was going to be was a fuck. That's all Itachi wanted. And Dei would decide that now was when he was going to tell Itachi where he should really put his--

"Deidara."

The voice was low, naturally seductive, and possessed then maybe just a hint of cold desperation. The blonde never knew what Itachi did or what happened to him outside of their relationship, he had only guessed here and there about familial or relationship problems.

But the voice was a terrible addiction to the sculptor, and just hearing it say his name sent shivers down his spine, like a breath of smoke into the lungs of a recovered smoker who hadn't touched nicotine in years. But the minute it returns, the body almost weeps in welcome, the desperate brain cells sent into overdrive until the need is abated.

He was pretty sure he was literally addicted to the raven, if judging by the way his hands began trembling ever so slightly on the phone.

How easily his inhibitions were taken care of. He was so sadly pathetic.

"Dei, I need you."

It was all but a silken whisper in his ear, velvet being stroked against the inner recesses of his conscious. It was had taken the blonde forever to get Itachi to call him by his nick-name--however, Itachi was always one to exploit everything….so now, hearing anything said by that voice (especially when it said that pet name for him), brought back flashes of deliciously terrible memories; moans and tearing bites against perfect skin, tickles of butterfly kisses on elegant throats, teeth and tongue dancing and clashing against each other in a primal dance only they could understand. He could feel the hiccups, the pants of breath on flesh, undignified, but uncared about, caught in the throws of passion, twisting and turning and arching and writhing because oh god, oh _god_, it wasn't fucking good enough, he need more, more--

And Itachi would give him more.

It was usually during these phone calls, the ones where Deidara had been determined to finish this sick relationship once and for all, it was then that he found himself leaning on the wall for support. He grasped for the frayed ends of his will, catching them for a moment, trying to weave them back together--

"I…I…"

A low chuckle echoed across the otherwise silent line as the Uchiha started sounding like normal again. Being in control of someone made the bastard feel very normal, perfectly content. It made the blonde question himself; on whether or not he had heard anything other then that smooth, deliciously overpowering confidence before.

"You what? Are you trying to say you're busy?"

He bit his lower lip and said nothing, waiting for Itachi to continue.

"…because I know that you know as well as I do that I could make you come for me right as you are. I wouldn't even have to touch you."

The trembling grew stronger as the images fluttered behind his closed eyelids. He knew Itachi's threat to be real. It had been…proven before. He pulled at the collar of his loose shirt with one of his fingers, suddenly feeling very warm.

Itachi laughed again-well, not really a laugh (since Itachi _didn't_ laugh), but the low rumble made Dei grow cold momentarily.

"My place, eleven o'clock."

The phone clicked off.

Deidara knew he had the choice of not showing up at all…but he couldn't help himself. He was always drawn there, he ran there, sometimes, because he was actually rather sure Itachi liked him better when he already looked a bit flushed--

The raven had complete control over him.

That was how he found himself that morning, trying to pass of Itachi's strange behavior as normal, refusing to berate himself until he was outside of the expensive building complex.

"Eh? Did you hear me, un?"

He asked as his question was met with silence. The raven pulled himself from the bed so slowly, so tiredly--it looked painful, as if he had pulled almost every muscle in his back. Dei finished with his shoes and stood, meeting those dark eyes, eyes glittering with just a hint of ruby red that the artist in the blonde found fascinating, head on.

"Well, if you're not going to say anything, I'm leaving. See you, un."

His voice was grating, even to his own ears, whining a little, pleading. Saying, "Itachi, Itachi, pleassse don't send me away again!"

Pathetic was the only adjective to describe what he had become.

Itachi murmured something right before the blonde turned to walk away-he knew he had dropped his stuff right by the door-or at least he thought he did--but his memories were hazy considering that at the time he had already been pinned up against the wall.

His fingers twitched at the recollection of silken strands that looked as though they had been soaked in the black calligraphy ink he kept in his studio, of mindless, passionate kissing-in actuality more similar to simply their fucking each other with only their mouths-nothing but teeth and tongue and fingers exploring every indention, every line of the other's features-

Itachi twisted to the side of his bed-to his nightstand and from there he opened the bottom drawer to pull out a pair of black sweats, easily pulling them on in a quick, sleek movement.

He moved from the bed like a great predator cat, slowly, languidly, his feet keeping perfect balance as he made his way across the floor.

Deidara remained as he was, suddenly realizing how similar this was to their first time together. Itachi had awoken right after he did, as the blonde was changing, and had walked out without saying a word. Left the sculptor standing there without a single sound or motion of acknowledgement, as though the other hadn't been there at all. The artist had seen himself out.

Of course, three days later when Itachi called, he came running right back to him…though the next morning, Itachi just watched him walk away with thoughtful eyes, and a cold expression.

That was how their mornings usually went after that. Quiet. Cold. Almost surreal. Deidara had come to rely on the night more then ever now, because…well, maybe it was superstitious of him, but it seemed as though night was the only time Itachi was..._alive_, metaphorically speaking. During the day the raven was just…dead. Their was none of the vibrancy that hid and peeked out in their short conversations, none of the razor sharp wit that he occasionally saw the existence of, only monotony. The fire that seemed to glow in the Uchiha's eyes when they were together at night-that was extinguished.

It was actually almost terrifying. Terrifying because he didn't know what to do about it.

But he remained as he was, since it was obvious that Itachi was moving towards him, and he tensed as the raven stopped not inches from his person, still frozen into an unmoving statuette on the floor.

The Uchiha looked at him for a long time, fathomlessly dark stare seemingly searching his eyes for some answer he was sure he didn't have.

His current…partner gave an inaudible sigh after a moment, as if he deflated just a little on the inside, before he leaned in and pressed their mouths together once more. The reason? It remained a mystery to the art professor.

And this kiss was surprising, not just because it was in the morning, for the Gods sake, but because it was also the first of anything close to…soft could be the only word for it, that he and Itachi had ever done.

That scared him too. Was this some sort of twisted premonition? Was Itachi trying to get him to trust him, so he could warp the blonde into helping him with some new fetish--

But his thoughts were lost within what was approximately 1.6 seconds of Itachi's lips pressing against his own, which is where they stayed for the duration of that time, but a moment layer, they were moving, instigating, and kissing him in a slow, deliciously languorous way that left shivers running up and down his back. This was strange. There was no passion, no fire, but…it left Deidara feeling blissfully blank as their tongues began a small battle for dominance-not messy, as it could get sometimes, but refined, Itachi actually using all of his arsenal of finesse-which could easily pwn the Queen of England's, if the blonde could be any sort of judge.

He seceded to the elder man, letting his palate be used as Itachi deemed fit, but suddenly being very aware that their mouths were the only parts of themselves touching. It felt odd…almost as if he was…naked-as preposterous as that statement was, seeing as he was naked around Itachi all the time, but--

He decided he didn't like that feeling, no, he would much rather have that sweet, blissfully blank euphoria again, so he pulled away from Itachi's tortuously seductive lips, but before the eye-brow could quirk in query, as he knew it would, he moved to wet his appetite on what he knew to be one of Itachi's most sensitive body-parts--

The back of his neck.

The silky dark hair tickled his nose somewhat as he moved to nuzzle the "Spot of complete Uchiha Control" as he called it (in his mind at least, because otherwise Itachi would kill him), and he was enveloped in all that was Itachi, the essence of his scent, the taste of his skin beneath his mischievous lips--it crowded out all other thoughts, all other emotions. His teeth scraped at the area so very, very slowly, and he smirked against the skin as he felt the raven tense, tense, but still, the Uchiha made no move to touch him in anyway whatsoever.

Itachi smelled so…utterly…delicious. Addictive. No one in the world had the right to smell like Itachi did, because if simply one more person excreted such an devour-able scent, the world would explode from lust--or Deidara's would, at least. He tasted the spice of cinnamon mixed with drying sweat from the previous night, but beneath that, some expensive cologne, clean soap, and something completely and totally masculine that Dei could bet would drive any-girl animalistic.

He thanked the heavens once more he was not female, because he was damn close to doing the same--

But Itachi stopped him then, pulled him back so that their lips momentarily met again in a clash of sparks and dangerous, fleeting passion, however, this time it was Itachi who broke away, moving to Dei's neck.

He closed his eyes as he felt the Uchiha work his perfect teeth and fucking godly tongue up his jaw line, making his way to right below the blonde's ear, near where his throat met the head. He bit Dei there, and the blonde almost buckled, realizing that Itachi was pressing on one of his damn pressure points again--evil bastard liked playing with them, knowing that the blonde's masochistic side made it all the more of a turn on.

The artist felt his blood pumping faster, realizing that Itachi was getting more serious, more into it--but he did not dare to try and do anything but sit and react as needed--something was definitely wrong here, and he wasn't sure what--

Itachi moved back, a little faster then his previous slower pace, to Deidara's mouth, which he took no time in devouring till the blonde suspected his soul might be sucked out if the Uchiha did much more--

But then Itachi started kissing him everywhere, all over his face, in all the sensitive points so that it felt as though his nerves were on fire, no, gone, so wonderfully gone--

He gave a pleading whimper, begging the older man to stop teasing, stop torturing--

He didn't even realize he had been pinned to a wall until he felt the satisfaction of having his hip slammed hard against the painted plaster as Itachi's hands--his beautiful hands, finally started taking action. His back arched at the pain and at the delightfully sinful pleasure of the contact, moving to grab Itachi's hair (he was reminiscing back to the night previous), to finally ignite the passion they were tempting too much with their careless kissing--

When Itachi stopped right where he was, in the middle of kissing and biting the arch of the artist's nose-and abruptly pulled away. Not far enough to completely free himself to their almost-embrace, but enough so that Dei had room to escape.

There was a silence as they both struggled to catch their breath. The blonde felt his chest heaving, his heart beating more rapidly then a rabbit's as he tried to once more gain control over himself-no easy task, Especially when he, so very, very aroused, itched to touch the bare chest that was moving in such a hypnotic pattern before him, the perfectly smooth skin, lavishably velvet flesh covering a well toned body that was strong enough to--well, Itachi had never had a moment when he _wasn't_ strong enough, period.

The raven-haired man moved to put pale, subtly muscled arms on either side of Dei's head, and leaned in to kiss him one more time, as slow as he was when he started everything that morning in the first place, seemingly thoughtful as he savored the blonde's taste.

The art professor felt as though his arms were glued to his sides. He didn't want to do anything that might endanger this magic, this complete and total gentleness that was completely unlike anything he had ever experienced before, either with Itachi, on any of his other previous…partners.

Itachi stopped kissing him.

He didn't make a sound, his eyes coolly meeting the stunning dark gaze, their lips not split more then a hairsbreadth apart. Time seemed to slow for a moment.

Deidara decided to take the initiative, and start a new kiss.

He had managed to press their lips together for less then a second this time, placing a small hand on the usually dominant man's shoulder before Itachi pulled his head away. He looked at the blonde hard, as if ensconced with some great debate in his mind.

The raven sighed, his body going limp once more. Dei felt the muscles slacken and tremble a bit beneath his hand before he quickly slid it off and away.

"You may go."

The usually smooth voice cracked a little, as though it was sore or under-used, or, if Deidara's guess was considered, a healthy mix of both.

The artist didn't say a word, slipping out of Itachi's arms to finish getting his things. As he moved to exit the bedroom at the far door, he only looked back for a moment, as he promised himself he wouldn't--but as usual, he couldn't help himself anyway.

Itachi was still staring in the same spot where his eyes had been mere moments ago, unmoved, silent.

The blonde shuddered. Something was definitely wrong.

He left, finding himself debating with his espresso at the coffee shop a few blocks down--

That morning, Itachi's eyes looked as though they were haunted by something. Something he had tried to forget-using Deidara as that outlet.

But no matter how much of a fucking bastard the asshole may be, Deidara still couldn't shake the last moment of their staring in his mind, before Itachi had broken their mutual silence with his words of dismissal.

It felt as if he was drowning. Drowning, drowning, in an endless ocean of blood.

--


End file.
